


A Taint of Wicked

by Mzz_M



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood and Torture, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mzz_M/pseuds/Mzz_M
Summary: I originally posted this on FF in February of 2013. Long story short, yesterday I received this really lovely Guest Review (6 years after the original post! which is so cool :P), asking me to post in AO3, so here we go! **______________My take on Thorin and Company's time spent in Mirkwood (Desolation of Smaug).Legolas/Kili centric. No SLASH or mary sues.





	1. Foul

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first and only FFic at the moment :S Sorry – no Beta yet, and I have no idea what I am doing *lol* So reviews are welcomed please!
> 
> Since I first read the Hobbit in grade 5 (age 10), I fell in love with Tolkien's world and I have remained a loyal fan ever since. I own NONE of the characters – praise be to Tolkien ;) . I am simply an adoring fan.
> 
> No mary-sues here. I try to stick to canon, although I have obviously changed the order of events a bit :P

**Chapter One**

Something had seeped into the ground like an oil, tainting everything it touched with a slick coating of something vile and infectious. Legolas crouched low to the ground, examining the putrid remains of what at one time, had been a beautiful little grey rabbit. Now its' eyes were black and lifeless, and the "oil" that seemed to fester in Mirkwood, now oozed from its gaping little mouth. Legolas frowned, and found a patch of unspoilt grass for which to lay the poor creature down. The forest was sad, the animals very frightened, and Legolas was anxious. What evil had seeped into Mirkwood, and where had it come from? Legolas cast his eyes west, his vision skipping through the dense thicket to see the path that led back to the halls. He had suspected something foul was amiss for weeks, and had often spoke of it to Thranduil although the King spoke less and less as the days passed into darkness.

"Adar, something foul haunts the woods. Surely you must feel it."

"Hmpf" his father sorted in disgust. "If something evil had dared set foot on our land, I surely would feel it. This "oil" you speak of is folly. It is none of your  _*achk ahhhhck!_ " Thranduil broke into a coughing fit, and immediately spun away from his son so that his keen eyes could not see the dark phlegm that had spewed forth during his fit, and was now splattered on the milky-white of his palm.

"Adar, are you ill?!"

"No," Thranduil snapped. "Return to your duties. Scout the Northern border." And with a wave of his other hand, he dismissed his son as one would a troublesome horsefly.

Legolas cast his eyes downwards, issuing his father's back a short bow as he left to do his bidding. But heavy were his steps, leaden with the weight of his worried heart for what was happening to Mirkwood – for he feared that the shadow had not only befallen the forest, but his perhaps even his father.

And so now he stood alone on the Northern border of the kingdom, watching as the moss seemed to rot before his very eyes. And then he heard it. Far off in the distance, and yet it was akin to mighty waves crashing upon the rocks. In one fell motion, he slipped a bow from his quiver and had it nocked, pointing in the direction on of all the commotion. The young prince's heart, albeit heavy with the sorrow laid upon his home, now beat rapidly as he tried to anticipate just what on earth could be causing such a racket. A cave troll? No, that was silly. But then again, strange days were now afoot.

His eyes pieced through the veils of dense foliage and spotted a mass of bouncing…..fur? Hair? Hair  _and_ fur! And then he saw eyes, gaping wide in fear. Dwarves!  _Oh good grief, of all the days to scout alone. Adar shall have my head!_ Legolas cursed himself in silence as he kept his bow trained on the incoming stampede of dwarves. Something had to have been chasing them to have lit such a fire beneath their heels. And then, amidst the yelling and the trampling of all the poor underbrush, Legolas spotted their foe, and nor was it a friend of Mirkwood. A giant spider, speckled in black blood from an earlier encounter, was crashing after them – a mass of limbs flailing wildly as it tried to pierce its fleeing prey. The forest shrank away from its path, recognizing that this  _thing_  was a foreign and evil presence in the realm. Legolas took aim at the dwarves' company, and fired.

They had managed to escape the foul spiders, and yet a handful of the filth were still hot on their trails. Only two left thanks to Dwalin. But two nonetheless. And where the dense underbrush caught the feet of the dwarves, the spindly spiders sailed over the ground with ease – eight limbs obviously better than two in this scenario.

"West! West!" barked Thorin, issuing his company onwards. He had to find a clearing in this godforsaken place before they could stand and fight their enemy without a disadvantage. A clearing was ahead, he could sense the foliage easing back, and there it was….with an elf standing in its center, an arrow pointed directly at them. Before he could even yell a warning, the elf let loose his arrow, and it sailed within centimeters of his the Dwarf king's face, perhaps even taking some of his beard with it. Thorin gasped as he heard the arrow hit its mark, only to then cringe as a shrill, ear-piercing cry filled the air. He spun round to see the massive spider now dead at Dwalin's heels. His friends' face was in shock, as it scanned for the source, but there was no time to investigate, as a second spider sped after their path. Dwalin and Nori both loosed their weapons, and prepared to swing at the beast, but it too was felled by a carefully aimed arrow.

Thorin's breath hitched in his throat as he turned to see the elf in the clearing. He stood in silence, scanning the rest of the forest. Their eyes met, and Thorin momentarily was at a loss for words. Was he to thank his enemy for this gesture? Or were the threat from the spiders the least of their worries?

Thorin's eyes narrowed as he stared down the elf. A small breeze moved through his flaxen hair, and yet his face remained set in stone. Then, in the blink of an eye, the elf drew forth a horn and blew into it, no doubt calling forth reinforcements, and then redrew his bow to aim it at Thorin's head. Thorin cursed their awful luck, and his heart ached as he found himself wishing that Kili could have given them cover with his arrows. But his youngest nephew lay on his other nephews' back, unable to walk due to the two orc arrows piercing his thigh. Fili was panting with the effort of having to run with his brother on his back, and yet his faced remained stoic, looking to Thorin and curtly nodding to let him know that he was fine. Thorin's chest bloomed with pride as he nodded in return, and yet was unable to hide the worry on his face be it for the monsters behind them, or the threat of his old enemies before them.

What a tattered company he led. They were exhausted, wounded, and barely standing. Kili remained unconscious and Bofur was wincing in pain as he leaned heavily into Bifur's shoulder, an orc arrow through the meat of his upper arm.  _By Durin what will become of us?_ Thorin allowed himself thirty seconds of panic, before he stamped the feeling to ash, and returned to stare at the elf in the clearing.

The flaxen-haired one was no longer aiming his arrow at the company. He did not have too for it seems that his call had been answered. They were surrounded by the elves of Mirkwood.

 


	2. Trespass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own NOTHING - praise be to Tolkien ;)

Legolas stood motionless, having lowered his bow as he saw the surrounding woods fill with the familiar faces of his kinsmen. No one moved, and in contrast to the wild commotion of just mere moments ago, this new silence was nothing short of eerie.

Legolas furrowed his brows as his eyes swept over the group of dwarves before him. He could immediately tell, by the way that his company almost unconsciously surrounded him in a protective motion, that their leader was the taller dwarf in the center. Indeed, he did have a stance that spoke of nobility and pride. And his armour was impressive, and...wait.

Legolas blinked as if to ensure that his elven vision was not betraying him. The insignia on the belt of the dwarf-leader... _was that?._...Durin! His heart thumped a little fast is his chest, although his face was set not to betray his surprise. He knew who this was! - _Thorin Oakenshield had come to Mirkwood, and it was he who had found him. Surely with all the disappointment his father had expressed towards him as of late, this finding would impress him!_

So this was the King under the Lonely Mountain. And yet for all his father had said, when he looked into the face of Thorin Oakenshield, he did not see greed, nor lust. Anger, yes - enough to burrow a hole through his skull judging by the dwarf's intense stare. Anger indeed, and not fear but... _worry?_  Yes, worry and concern were etched into the stony features of the dwarf king - his face could have been chiseled from the rock of Erebor itself. The king was worried, and it was not just because his company was surrounded.

And then, Legolas saw his cause for concern. Slung across the back of a blonde-haired dwarf, was another dwarf with beautiful chestnut hair. His face mostly hidden in the furred collar of the blonde. Blood was running in a steady rivulet down his leg, and the elf prince inwardly grimaced as he noticed two orc arrows piercing the unconscious fellow's upper thigh.

Legolas stepped forward, without a sound, nor a blade of grass disturbed, and yet the movement sent the company before him to arms and yelling, causing a slew of arrows around them to be nocked in their direction. But still Legolas continued, raising his hands not only as a sign for his own company to be still, but also for the dwarves to know that he meant them no harm.

"My name is Legolas Greenleaf of the Woodland realm. I will not harm you master dwarves, if but you could show me the same intent!"

Thorin literally sneered as him, and looked about with frenzied eyes as an animal would, caught in a trap. Legolas stopped his approach, seeing that Thorin would speak.

"I am Thorin Oakenshield and I am travelling with a small company. Our journey does not involve you,  _elf_. So be out of our way and we shall be on ours!"

Legolas sighed,  _stubborn dwarves_. He had to force himself not to roll his eyes.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I know of your name, and the line of Durin. And yet, you have trespassed on the lands of the Woodland Realm, more so you have brought forth a darkness that has sparked a great deal of curiosity and concern". The young prince warily cast a hand in the direction of the two giant, dead spiders behind them.

"Trespassing was not our intent," growled Thorin, "as we were obviously preoccupied with our foes. Now stand aside  _elf_ , and we will be on our way."

Legolas pursed his lips, a small wave of anger rolling to the surface before he quickly rendered his emotions under control. _Even completely surrounded he remains rude and demanding - unbelievable!_

"Thorin Oakenshield, you and your company will come with us to Mirkwood. I assure you that you shall be treated humanely, and we will see to your wounded. But you may not trespass against us, and bring such foul creatures into our midst without answering a few questions first. I know my father will wish to speak with you immediately."

"Your father? Pray elf, tell," growled Thorin.

Legolas felt a strange pang of guilt surge through him. He was taking the dwarves out of a genuine desire to assist the company, and likewise learn more of the spiders?  _Was he not? Or was it more from fear of the repercussions from his father if he was to learn that his son had let them go?_  Truthfully, the prince was in no rush to return to the halls of Mirkwood and to the strange moods that had befallen his father.

"Thranduil," answered the Prince.

It was a short response, and yet that one name caused Thorin to immediately stiffen and his face quivered with fury. He said nothing.

It was actually an elder dwarf to his left that spoke.

"And do we come to Mirkwood as guests or prisoners, Legolas Greenleaf, son of ….. _Thranduil._  I think that you intend the later!" scoffed the elder. He must have also been of higher standing in the company, as Thorin made no effort to silence him.

"Master dwarf, you are surrounded. So come under what guise you may, but your attendance is not optional", snapped the Prince. And with a flick of his hand, the surrounding forest emptied of the elves who had answered his call. They surrounded the angered company, and not without a few scuffles, set about to binding their hands and tying them in a line. It was when Sedwyn, a particularly young and brash elf, reached a wounded dwarf wearing an odd, curled and furry hat fur, that Legolas intervened.

"Release him!" For Sedwyn had yanked the dwarf's arm behind him, attempting to bind his hands, and seeing as how an orc arrow was embedded in the poor fellow's upper arm, the dwarf let loose an agonized cry. This spurred his comrade with... _wait, was that an axe in his skull?_  ...to let loose a string of what must only be considered ancient profanities, and attempt to then head-butt any elf in his vicinity.

Sedwyn scoffed at the injured dwarf. "But Prince Legolas, he is as unruly as his companions!"

"And he is injured Sedwyn. His hands need not be bound. Can your eyes not manage to keep a wounded dwarf in your sights?"

At this, Sedwyn's ears flushed to the points, and he nodded curtly, backing away from the injured dwarf, who was now growling in pain, clutching his shoulder and wobbling on his feet. Legolas approached him, noting a sheen of sweat on his pained face. No doubt his wounds were infected, as orcs are infamous for their filth, and he was undoubtedly in the early throws of fever and delirium.

The dwarf with a chunk of axe embedded is his forehead had to be held back as the Price gracefully approached his wounded companion. Legolas came close enough to further inspect his wound, but did not touch him, and rather tried to capture the delirious and unfocused attention of the dwarf.

"We will get you care for your wounds."

The dwarf's head lolled back so he could better see the prince from beneath his hat. A large curled mustache, quite fitting considering his strange head attire, greeted Legolas. The dwarf looked confused, and sounded parched for water, and amidst the fever, also sounded almost drunk with pain.

"Well would ya get a look at this! Aye Thorin, another tree-shagger! By Durin, I vote for the spiders!," yelled the dwarf with smirk.

And with that the boisterous dwarf's head dropped to the side, and he fell unconscious into the waiting arms of Sedwyn.

_Tree-shagger?_

A few of the dwarves chuckled, in spite of their predicament and their unconscious friends. Legolas found himself rather flustered and annoyed at their mirth.

"Tree-shagger?", the prince repeated. The elves surrounding them were all but _fuming_  now...albeit stoically.

Now both parties were even more on edge, and meanwhile, the dwarf who had made the initial comment looked to be sleeping rather peacefully across Sedwyn's shoulder.

* * *

Dwalin, who now brought up the rear of the tied line, watched with a smile on his face as Bofur, _that adorable idiot_ , catapulted the situation from tense to positively seething. He reckoned that the next one to snap a twig, would end up with an arrow through his throat. And yet he couldn't help but smile. The large dwarf sighed, and raised his bound hands to scratch at an oozing cut on his forehead. "Well shit."

Bofur's drunken pain had ensured that the journey back to Thranduil's halls was not a gentle one. The ropes were yanked viciously, and more often than not the dwarves found themselves tripping on the forest floor, and being dragged until they could once again find their feet.

Dwalin snorted, and looked to the only members who weren't being dragged, Kili and Bofur. The two wounded dwarves were hung loosely over the back of accompanying elks...or stags. Whatever they were, they looked like dinner to Dwalin, and his stomach ached. "Well aint this bloody typical. The two loud-mouths who started this whole thing just get to doze it off while we're eating mud!"

It wasn't meant to garner a response, more so just be an opportunity for the gruff dwarf to vent at their current predicament, but somewhere from the front of the line, Fili had obviously heard him.

"Kili said nothing! He has been _unconscious_ , not  _dozing_  for the past hour!"

Dwalin sighed, knowing how concerned the heir must be. "I know I know! But...well, he would have laughed!"

And to that everyone agreed. Kili was usually the first to laugh at Bofur's antics - he found him to be hilarious, and Dwalin had to admit, he missed their banter at times such as these.

"Quiet!" snapped Sedwyn. "We near the halls." And with that, the troop and the forest fell deathly quiet once again. Dwalin watched his king's shoulder's tense and straighten as they neared the halls of Mirkwood, and Thranduil.

"We are with you Thorin," he mumbled, earning a vicious jab to the shoulder from the butt of Sedwyn's bow. And to that, everyone agreed.

 


	3. Cough

The halls of Mirkwood were dimly lit with torches as the day faded into dusk. The dwarves, now beyond irritated and covered in mud, were marched like common livestock into the main throne room. Massive blooming vines hung from the ceilings, and worked their way through the walls as if they too were part of the earth. Nori, the ever-observant thief, was looking about the massive, vaulted-room with a look of mixed awe and confusion. He stood next to Dwalin, craning his neck to see the ceiling rafters.

"I've never seen so many  _flowers and leaves_  in a throne room!", he whispered to Dwalin, his disgust audible. Unfortunately it was a whisper load enough for everyone to hear, and Dwalin was amused by this.

The large, tatooed dwarf sighed. "That's what happen when ya go about munchin' on nothing but fruit all day! It effects your brain  _and_  your decor!"

Nori snorted at this, which earned him the same sharp jab to the back from Sedwyn, that Dwalin had just recieved.

"Silence! Isolent fools! You stand in the halls of Thranduil!," snapped Sedwyn. Legolas cast him a wary glance - the young elf was always so desperate to please his father.  _Perhaps if he had put forth Sedwyn's effort, he would find himself more in his father's good graces as of late?_  The prince considered this and frowned, just as his Father, in all the robes befitting a banquet, swept in to the throne room.

At first his father seemed in a good mood, and then his eyes travelled to the guards at the main doors, who stood with the corpse of the slain spider which had been dragged along by the party for further inspection. A look flashed across his glowing face that Legolas could not quite understand... _was it anger? Rage? Surely not_. But whatever panged his father in that moment, it cast a dour mood on the rest of the proceedings.

* * *

His father's introduction to the company was a slow one, as he surveyed each and every dwarf, proceeding down the line, and finally stopping on Thorin.

"My, my. If it is not the kingdomless King."

Thorin growled, and his words dripped with the ache of long-overdue vengeance, as he stared down Thranduil. "Well if it isn't the  _cowardly_  King, who would rather run and hide in his trees than come to the aid of his... _former_  allies."

For a moment, there was silence, and then Thranduil, without a note of warning, delivered a vicious backhand to Thorin's face, causing Legolas to start in surprise.  _This was not like his father, or perhaps he had just never seen this side?_

There was a response of grumblings and a few threats that emanated down the bound line, as their leader was so openly disrespected. But Thorin paid no mind to the comments, and instead, stood even straighter, spat out blood that had formed in his mouth and continued to stare down Thranduil. Realizing that hitting the dwarf would only reach an impasse, the elf king gave the impression of boredom with his old enemy and turned abruptly.

"Do not blame the gold sickness that drove your kingdom to the ruin of Smaug, on me... _old ally_." The last part of his response was laced with sarcasm. "Besides, must we care so much for the past, when it is the present that troubles me so? Not only do you trespass against Mirkwood, but you slew a creature of the Woodland realm." There were audible gasps of shock as the King pointed over to the foul corpse of the spider.

Before Thorin or any of the dwarves could defend themselves against the king's absurd claims, Legolas stepped forward.  
"Adar, you see that those are my arrows that protrude from the beast. Surely it is not of the Woodland realm. I shot the creature, as it was chasing the company of dwarves. I sensed only evil in its' life-force."

Thranduil turned to look at his son with a look of visible disdain. Legolas was confused by this, and apparently so were the dwarves who looked to one another with raised eyebrows regarding the behaviour of the elf King. Thandruil ignored them, and turned back to Thorin.  
"So you march evil into our lands? I see! And what business have you here Thorin Oakenshield? What brings my  _old ally_  to Mirkwood with evil at his heels?"

And with this, Legolas watched as Thorin and Thranduil engaged in a back-and-forth argument, Thorin never once revealing the purpose of the company's journey. As he watched the ordeal, frustrated and confused by his father's response, a small voice sounded from next to him.  
"Thank-you, Master Greenleaf."

Legolas looked down, to see the large eyes of a halfling starring up at him from beneath sandy curls. He had seen the hobbit only after the company had been tied in to a line, for the short fellow hid easily behind the bulk of his companions. He had cursed himself at the time, for not being more observant. And now, looking down to the hobbit, he was unsure as to how to respond, although the comment did sound genuine.

"You thank me?...er, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire?," whispered the Prince, careful to avoid being heard by his father, who was still engaged in arguing with Thorin.  
The hobbit nodded, rather-matter-of-factly, "Why yes. You shot the spiders. And just now, you could have let the blame for that act fall on us. So thank-you".Legolas gave a harsh nod to Bilbo, almost embarrassed at the show of gratitude, considering that the halfling was still bound along with all of his companions. But their side-moment was soon interrupted.

"ENOUGH! To the dungeons with the lot!" barked Thranduil.

And then, from the corner of the hall, a barely-audible moan. One of the wounded dwarves was stirring, no doubt woken by all the yelling. It was the dwarf with the chestnut hair, and his slow movements set all the guards around him on edge. Legolas sighed at their unease and quickly crossed the throne room to stand at his side as he tried to rouse himself from unconsciousness.

The elf knelt down next to the dwarf, and noted how young the fellow was. In fact, were it not for the stubble across his face, he could have passed for a short elf - he certainly was handsome enough to warrant such a compliment.  
"Master dwarf, do not panic. But you are captive in the halls of Mirkwood, and your company is with you. Your hands are bound before you as we try to ascertain your purpose. You have also been injured."

The young dwarf ground his teeth in pain and hissed sharply as he tried to move his right leg, blood now pooling beneath his thigh on to the stone floor. His large eyes met the young prince's, and it was true that fever was now upon him, and yet, he .. _.smiled?_  A small smirk and a nod to Legolas, "Yes, judging by the arrows, I figured I was injured. My name is Kili." It was a brief response that left the elf-prince dumbfounded yet again after just speaking with Bilbo, and he was unable to respond at first.

Kili stretched from his seated position to look past Legolas' shoulder to where the rest of his companions stood bound. All were now anxiously looking back to him. The young dwarf finally locked eyes with Thorin. "Uncle? Where is Fili?", for he could not see him past the Prince knelt before him.

Thorin hissed, obviously too late in urging the dwarf to be silent, and now cast a frantic glance to Thranduil, who for some reason was now grinning with malice.

"Uncle is it? Well my my, a _family affair_  for the line of Durin!" Thranduil started to approach his son, who still knelt on one knee besides Kili, and it was this slow approach that sent Fili into a fit. He began thrashing at the guards, and pulling at his bonds, effectively knocking over most of the line with his efforts.

Sedwyn was one who tried to restrain him, beating him about the back in order to gain his submission, and yet, the young blonde dwarf continued to struggle trying to reach Kili. Now even Thorin, still bound, was trying to quell the fury of the young dwarf.

"My lord!" cried Sedwyn, holding Fili in a chokehold, "this one is feral!"

Legolas stood, no longer able to stand idle while Fili was being beaten down. "He is not feral, Sedwyn. He is a brother."  
And with that he turned to look down at Kili, who had a look on his face that confirmed his fears - they were brothers. And now his father knew as well. Usually, he would have felt no concern, and yet the shadow that he had seen creeping across his Adar's fair features made him nervous for all who crossed his path.

Thranduil had thankfully stopped approaching Kili, and was staring at Fili with a look of nothing short of pure amusement. This look made Legolas feel extremmley uneasy, and he opted to try and distract him while all was quiet.

"Adar, this dwarf and his comrade are injured. I assured them we would see to their wounds. Perhaps the dungeons would not be fit for these two, considering their condition. They need our attention."

Thranduil quickly crossed the space between him and his son, to stand face to face with the young and very startled Prince, and for a moment, the palpable silence between them had no one breathing. Legolas stared deep into his eyes - dark were the waters there, that once used to sparkle as fresh fallen snow.

Thranduil spun quickly, leaving his son completely taken aback as he then began to mock him openly.

"Adar, _Adar, Adar!_ ," he sneered in a cruel impression. "Do you forget that I am lord and king of this realm!? I ALONE AM... _**accccckkkk**akch achkk**"_  Thranduil's shouts were interrupted by yet another short-lived fit of coughing, to which Legolas tried to ignore so as not to embarrass him in front of the captive dwarves.

"No Ad-...my Lord. I only meant to address..."

"Silence!"

And Legolas fell silent, and yet for some reason, he would not move from his place between his father and Kili, a sense of dread filling his chest.

The coughing seemed to have momentarily weakened the elf-king, and he set to lounging in his great throne, nonchalantly examining his nails and hands, as if oblivious to all who stood waiting for his next words.

"Actually, perhaps I have spoken to harshly to you my son," he finally muttered, "for you have indeed raised a good point in spite of your youth and inexperience". Legolas winced at his father's cruel words, and Thranduil tented his fingers, locking eyes with Thorin who was still shooting daggers in his direction.

"Take the company to the dungeons, EXCEPT for the whelp in the corner, and that unconscious fellow over there, " and he cast a dismissive hand towards Bofur, who was still unconscious and propped up against Bombur's rotund stomach.

"Oh and Thorin Oakenshield, and the other Durin scamp...annnnnnd..." Thranduil took his long finger and pointed at each dwarf in the bound line, trying to determine who else he should name. He smiled viciously as his eyes came to rest on the halfling.

"Annnnnnd the halfling. They can all accompany their wounded to the ward to assist with the...surgery."

With his last words, loud shouts flew from all the dwarves but those named, as they were too stunned to speak. One actually begged to replace the halfling - it was Oin. "Please Lord Thranduil, I am a healer! Permit me to accompany you!"

Thranduil laughed in response. "Oh yes, Master Oin, the dwarves are  _so renowned_  for their healing!" Oin could only snarl in disgust at the King's sarcasm.  
"No, I think not," pouted Thranduil. "Besides, you do not amuse me, and that sturdy little  _creature_ does... _*accckk ***ahhckkk accckkk ***"_  The King pointed to Bilbo, as another coughing fit had him bent over in his throne. Two guards approached him with concern, and yet the king waved them away. And poor Bilbo who now had a look of horror plastered on his face, was still reeling from the King's orders.  _Surgery?_

Oin cleared his throat as the King finished coughing, wiping dark phelgm from his hand. "Perhaps my healing skills will be useful after all? It seems for all your pomp that you are not able to heal even yourself!" snapped the healer.

"Oin," whispered Thorin, which urged the healer to stay quiet.

All were now silent, as if unsure what to do. Thranduil rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed.  
"Well!? Move! To the dungeons and to the surgical ward!"

The guards snapped to attention and started untying the dwarves, and hauling them off in different directions. Legolas turned to Kili, and shot two guards a warning as they tried to approach him.

"I shall carry him to the ward. I suggest you try to keep his brother from throttling Sedwyn." And Fili did indeed have his hands wrapped around Sedwyn's throat as he wrestled to break free and attend to his brother.

Legolas could only watch as the guards rushed over to Sedwyn's aid and one delivered a hard elbow to the back of the blonde's skull, making his body go limp. The prince shut his eyes, wincing with visible disappointment at the guards' brutality. He felt Kili next to him, shaking with pain and rage.

"Fili! NO!" cried Kili. He tried to move but there was no strength behind his actions and he could only hold on to Legolas' arm as the young prince tried to still him. He threw his head back, and a frustrated sob wracked his body, the pain obviously becoming too intense after the sudden movements. Legolas felt his heart ache. He slowly stooped to Kili's level and lifted him effortlessly from the ground, cradling him in his arms.

Be it for embarrassment at being carried, or pain, Kili made a few vain thumps against Legolas' chest with his bound hands, as he demanded that he be put down, but to know avail.

Legolas allowed the young dwarf to beat on his chest as he carried him down the dark and winding stairs to the ward. For in the back of his mind, Legolas felt he deserved a bruised and aching chest as he considered what was about to happen.

With his chest numb, his heart aching, and his ears deft to the cries of the dwarves as they were dragged down to the dungeons, he clutched the dwarf closer in his embrace, and carried him in to the surgery ward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Reviews and feedback welcome!


	4. Kwirinhyde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everyone! So WOW this was a difficult chapter to write! :S And I suggest grabbing a beverage of your choice before sitting down to read this, because it's a BIG one! :P

**I own nothing - praise be to Tolkien :)**

* * *

One of the elven guards had a firm grip on the back of Bilbo's coat as he ushered him down the winding stairs. Legolas walked just ahead of them, and he could see Kili's legs jostling as the tall elf carried him with a gentleness and grace that somehow did not seem to suit their current predicament.  _The surgery ward? Why did that blonde loon choose me!?_  Bilbo took a deep breath through his nose, attempting to quell the sense of dread that was rising in his chest. He was picturing a dank dungeon, filled with all the unimaginable torture devices of Mordor _. The blood of old victims would be splattered on the floors, and the skeletal remains of an orc "test-subject" would still hang in chains from the wall!_  Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment,  _Don't panic you fool! Kili and Bofur are in far worse shape than you!_

The stone slower grew colder and colder beneath the soles of his feet and the company continued downwards. Not a sound could be heard from Legolas and his burden, except for the occasional pained protest from Kili as he begged to be put down. Behind the hobbit however, was a different matter. Thorin and Fili were not coming easily, and from the voices he could make out, it sounded as if Bofur had chosen the worst possible moment to wake.

"Bloody hell! What in Durin's…." shouts from behind him were lost to distant echoes as they sank into the deep stone walls. Bilbo attempted to turn and hear more of the commotion, and yet the elf behind him made sure that he kept moving forward _. That last yell did indeed sound like the toy-maker_!

Finally, Legolas came to a sudden halt before a set of beautiful, heavy wood-doors.

"Open!," demanded the Prince as his arms were full with wounded dwarf, and the doors swung open. Bilbo felt bile rise in his throat, his nerves raw. He could only imagine what was running through Kili's mind right now, the poor fellow.

"Please, don't do this. I feel fine! I don't want this!" it was Kili, and he was practically pleading with Legolas to put him down. Bilbo's heart broke for him, hearing the pain lacing his slurred words. And yet the Master of Baggend was once again, pleasantly surprised by the Prince of Mirkwood.

Legolas, still cradling his charge, looked directly into Kili's eyes, and almost cooed his reassurance. "Master Kili, I am afraid that you are  _not_ fine. You have lost a good deal of blood, and your wounds need attending. I will not lie to you. It shall not be pleasant, and yet our healers are renowned throughout Middle-earth. I shall be with you, and your friends are here."

Kili looked wide-eyed into Legolas' stern and yet serene features. He said nothing at first, and only nodded towards the open doors. "Well, I guess we should get this over with then?" He voice shook, and then a small smile, and one returned by Legolas. "You a very brave Master Kili". And with that, Legolas proceeded to carry Kili in to the ward. Bilbo was next in line, followed by Bofur who was being carried like a sack of potatoes by another guard, and Fili and Thorin, who still fought Sedwyn and his fellow guards with every step.

* * *

As it turns out, the ward was nothing like the torture chamber in Bilbo's mind, and the hobbit found himself relieved, and yet almost embarrassed to have immediately thought of such nightmarish nonsense. The floors and the walls were spotless. There was no natural light of course, and yet many lanterns had been lit, giving an illusion of warmth to the space. Two walls were lined with shelves containing the most beautiful array of coloured glass bottles; all of them neatly organized. Bilbo chastised himself again for thinking of orc skeletons – these were after all, the halls of the Woodland elves.

Three large marble slabs sat in the center of the room. Large lanterns hung directly over each slab,  _or perhaps table?_  and provided ample lighting for each smooth surface. A surge of relief washed through Bilbo…..until the hobbit took note of all the straps. Numerous heavy leather straps hung from the sides of the marble slabs _Well that's odd?…_

As Bilbo was moved past the tables, to the back of the room, he could see that each station had a stone stool set at the head of each table. The stool looked to be a mere extension of the floor, and it had decorative rings covering its base. The hobbit then noted that where the stools sat, the marble slabs were in fact not perfectly flat, as he had first assumed. In fact, there were many delicate lines carved out of the surface of the marble that trailed down the sides of the table to the slanted floor, where there was a drain…... _a drain?...oh my...Oh no._

Bilbo went as white as the cloths that were neatly stacked in a nearby cabinet.  _Fluids. Those carved lines would carry and direct fluid into a drain….and blood._  The hobbit's throat suddenly went dry as the horror of the elves' ingenious drainage system dawned on him. The situation that all of them were about to face became very real, and as Legolas neared the center table with Kili still in his arms, the hobbit suddenly felt faint.

Thankfully, it seemed that none of the others had noticed the room's  _unique features_  as Bilbo had. Kili and Bofur were in too much pain, and Fili and Thorin were too enraged. Bilbo tried to focus on  _not_  fainting as he watched the rest of the Durin line be dragged into the room. Sedwyn looked furious, and the hobbit couldn't help but smile.  _Serves him right, the prick!_

Fili and Thorin were also taken to the back wall, where their hands, still bound, were chained to large iron handles that protruded from the walls. Bilbo sighed.  _How typical of the elves? Even their restraints are intricately decorated!_

Thorin, now secured to the wall with a short length of chain, still yanked at the irons, as if to test any possible weakness in the links. "Is this how we are to  _assist you_? Chained to a wall!?"

Thorin's question was directed at Legolas, the only elf who had shown a willingness to converse, and thus build some manner of rapport that was not hostile. But Legolas did not answer. Instead, all of the prince's attention was focussed on Kili.

Ever so gently, the prince carried the young dwarf to the table, and set him down in a seated position, careful as to not jostle his leg any further. Poor Kili's breeches were now thoroughly soaked through with blood, and any hint of a movement had the dwarf squeezing his fists and grinding his teeth. Kili propped himself up on his elbows, and actually permitted Legolas to more carefully inspect his leg.

"Please try and stay still," advised the elf-prince, his face giving no indication as to the severity of Kili's leg wound. Kili only nodded sharply, and started breathing through his nose, no doubt in an attempt to control the pain.

Bofur on the other hand, was not carried in to the room by Legolas, and therefore, he was rather unceremoniously dumped on to the slab that was awaiting him. When the hatted dwarf hit the marble, his eyes almost rolled back in his head, and he clutched the elbow of his wounded arm.

"Oh yessss! That felt great. Yep, I feel juuuuust dandy. This is wonderful! Ahhhhhhhh….Thorin? Thorin where are ya?"

Thorin's voice boomed from the back wall, "I am here Bofur. I have been  _chained_  to the wall, as has Fili."

The disdain was clearly evident in Thorin's voice, thought the hobbit made a mental note that the Dwarf king  _never did really sound ….cheery?_

Bofur strained on his table to try and roll over and look to where the other two dwarves were held, but the guard who had dumped in on the table, pressed on his good shoulder so that he could do nothing but squirm.

"Ah, well glad to hear that you could join us! Oh and Thorin?..."

"Yes, Bofur?"

"Why in all of middle earth do you have such a grudge against the elves, I mean  _I don't get it_? Their hospitality has just been lov…." But Bofur's attempt to lighten their grim circumstances was cut short, as Sedwyn quickly crossed the room and back-handed the dwarf across the face.

"Sedwyn! Enough! He is injured!" cried Legolas. Bofur spit a bit of blood over the edge of the table and looked to Sedwyn.

"Aaaaaand I was  _trying_ to pay you a compliment. By Durin you are testy!"

Sedwyn sneered at him, infuriated at Bofur's mirth and sarcasm. "He may be injured but he's a loud-mouth, arrogant  _dwarf_."

"Ahhhh aren't we all though?" This time is was Kili who spoke, no doubt trying to draw the attention away from Bofur.

Bilbo watched Fili as his brother's voice registered to his ears, and the young dwarf practically leapt in excitement. Unfortunately, the chains binding him would allow nothing more than an exaggerated  _hop_.

"Brother! Talk to me, are you ok? Did the elf hurt you?!" Fili referred to Legolas as if he wasn't still standing next to his brother's table. And to his credit, Legolas did not show any offence.

Kili smiled at the sound if his brother's voice from behind him, for he was facing the other way, still propped up on his elbows. "I am alright Fili! I've been better, I am not going to lie, but Master Legolas has been… _accommodating_ , with all things considered." Thorin grunted in disgust at this, which had Kili smiling again.

Bilbo was in awe, for despite their severe pain, Kili's tone and Bofur's humour had managed to ease all in the room, and this was in spite of the fact that both dwarves must surely know that more pain would soon be upon them. Bilbo's anxiety was suddenly replaced with a surge of pride for being associated,  _no, a member!_  of such a strong group of warriors.

And yet, the Master Burglar hadn't the time to dwell on this welcomed feeling, as the sight of Thranduil breezing through the double-doors had his anxiety immediately increased to tenfold what it had earlier been.

No one spoke, and the tension that Bofur and Kili had tried so hard to diminish, had returned with avengeance to the stale air.

* * *

Thranduil had changed out of the elaborate gowns of their earlier meeting, and was now is a flowing grey smock. The two elves that stood to either side of him were dressed likewise, and their faces were harder than those of the cave-trolls after sun-rise. Bilbo swallowed his nerves, and kept his eyes fixated on the trio.

"Legolas, Sedwyn, secure the dwarves to the tables. They are not to be lounging about," ordered Thranduil, his voice much quieter than before. "Once they are secured, guards -you may leave us. The only audience we need is already here."

Sedwyn was more than happy to begin immediately strapping down Bofur's legs to the corners of the table. It was when he reached the dwarf's injured arm, the wretched orc arrow still stuck in his bicep, that Bofur let out a cry of anguish. However, Sedwyn did not stop, as Thranduil gave no indication to do so.

As the arrow was sticking out towards the ceiling, Sedwyn strapped Bofur's wrists down flat to the table, so that his palms were pressed to the cold marble. Bofur could not muster much strength in his arms to struggle, and so he took this opportunity to start kicking his legs. But Sedwyn was stronger, and took hold of the dwarve's ankles and had them secured to the corners of the slab in moments.

"Ah dammit, let me sit up you pointy-eared bastard!" cried Bofur. Bilbo noted that this arrow wound had begun to steadily drip blood once again amidst the dwarf's struggling, and winced in sympathy.

"Pointy-eared bastard? Oh how colourful!," Thranduil noted with a clap of his hands. He then rolled his eyes in the direction of the chained King. "Really Thorin, do you still have  _any standard_ s for the company you keep?"

Thorin growled and muttered something under his breath. Bilbo couldn't make it out, but obviously Thranduil and the other sets of elf ears in the room  _could_ , and Thranduil and Sedwyn looked furious. The elf-king sighed, and took a deep breath to steady his rage, and then cocked his head to the side in a most disheartening manner to stare at his son.

"And what are  _you_  waiting for Legolas? Secure the dwarf! We have wounds to attend, as  _you_  so reminded me earlier."

Legolas cast his eyes downwards to Kili, and although his face remained impassive, Bilbo could see sorrow sweep across his furrowed brows. The elf-prince gently started securing Kili's wrists to the table, just Sedwyn had done to Bofur. And Kili, for the all the strength he had shown, finally started to panic.

"No, no! Please Legolas, please, I won't move! I promise! Just don't…not…"

Legolas paused only momentarily to look sadly at Kili, and then continued his work, moving down to the young dwarf's ankles. Kili continued to protest, and yet soon, his entire body was strapped down to the table, and the only thing moving was his heaving chest. Legolas backed away from the table with his eyes fixed on the floor, and Bilbo, although his heart ached for Kili and Bofur, lent some of his grief to the young elf-prince as well.

Kili's panic had sent Bofur into a tailspin, and he continued to demand to be let up, and shouted the most "colourful" descriptions for elves he could think of. In turn, seeing his nephew's grief and Bofur's anger had Thorin almost wrenching his arms out of their sockets to be free of the wall-chains that held him back. And if to only make matters  _worse_ , the two elves who had accompanied Thranduil each moved to stand at a table, and placed a large leather bit in the wounded dwarves mouths, then securing the notch to the table so that now their heads were pinned as well, and their voices muffled by the bit in their mouths.

Bofur was still trying to yell, and threated to choke himself on his own saliva as he could no longer pick up his head from the table. The room had descended into chaos, and Thranduil, for all that he had done, looked amused.

 _Well this simply will not do_ , surmised Bilbo. And without thinking twice, the hobbit speedily walked to Bofur's table and struggled with his lack of height to at first  _climb_ , and then finally sit on the stone stool that was directly to the top of the dwarf's head. Still ignoring the confused looks from all in the room, the hobbit sat on his knees so that he could lean over Bofur's face and meet the panicked eyes of the dwarf, albeit upside-down.

"Bofur. I am here. Try and relax," said Bilbo, with a sincerity that had the dwarf fixated upon the face that now hovered above his.

"Mpgf Ghhh," muttered Bofur with the bit between his teeth, and his body sagged against the table, apparently relieved to see a familiar face. Bilbo smiled, and placed a hand on his forehead, assuring him the best he could for one whose legs could not stop shaking beneath him.

The room had quieted, and much to everyone's surprise, none of the elves had rushed to remove Bilbo from his place on the stool. And yet, after a few moments of peace, the undeniable sound of pained wheezing filled the room. It was Kili, and with the bit crammed in his mouth and his head now as immobile as the rest of his body, he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Legolas please!," pleaded Fili. "My brother is claustrophobic! He is already underground, and now to be strapped down like this. He'll panic and choke!"

Fili looked on the verge of tears as he directed his plea to Legolas alone, who did not ignore him. The young-prince now looked anxiously between the two brothers. Thranduil however, had started to quietly laugh.  _To actually laugh!_  at Kili's plight.

"Oh  _this is rich!_  A claustrophobic dwarf!? Oh the line of Durin these days!" From the other wall Sedwyn snorted in amusement, which sent Thorin into another fit of bellowing threats from his place of confinement on the wall.

Bilbo watched Legolas as his father and the Thorin once again became embroiled in a battle of words, his fair face starting to show the slightest hints of frustration and exhaustion. Seizing the opportunity of his father's current state of distraction, Legolas flew to Fili's side and unhooked his chains from the wall.

Before Sedwyn could even protest, or Fili could even register what was happening, the elf-prince had taken Fili to the head of Kili's table, and had him seated on the stone stool by his brother's head, his legs now chained to the iron rings at the base of the stool. Fili made no motion or sound of protest.

Having seated Fili by his brother, Legolas quickly backed away from the table yet again, nodded curtly to his father who was now staring most vehemently at his son.

Fili ignored them, and focused instead on his brother, his face resting mere inches from Kili's nose.

"Kili. Kili! I'm here, its ok brother. I am here. Calm down. Shhh, it's ok."

And when Kili's frenzied brown eyes met his brother's, a single tear rolled down the side of his face, and he relaxed, trying to nod in agreement. Fili smiled, and swept his beard away from his younger brother's forehead. He then set to rubbing small circles on Kili's chest, and almost instantly, Kili's breathing calmed.

Bilbo and Fili then both looked to Legolas, who stood to the side, watching intently. When his sorrowful eyes met each of theirs, Bilbo mouthed the words "thank-you," and Fili gave him nod of thanks.

Legolas, almost embarrassed to do so, then looked to his father, who had still not spoken, and the elf-prince's face immediately fell as he noticed a small amount of black blood dripping from the King's nose.

"Adar, are you ill?! Your nose!" Legolas rushed to her father's side, and yet the King of the Woodland realm simply wiped the strange blood from his nose, a look of confusion crossing his face. For a moment, he seemed to look about the room in panic, before his eyes finally fell upon his son.

"Legolas? Legolas," stammered the King, his demeanor having changed dramatically from mere moments ago. "Legolas my son. I…you must… _kwirinhyde_. Kwirinhyde. I….," and then, just as suddenly as the confusion has swept across the elf-king's pale face, it was gone, and his eyes snapped back to attention, a dark shadow falling across his brow. His voice did not falter now.

"If you are quite done securing the dwarf, then perhaps you should go and see to the dwarves in the dungeon.  _Sedwyn_ will assist me. I fear that matters of surgery are not suited for one so… _meek_." Legolas winced, and but for the faintest second, his chin shook at his father's harsh words. And yet the elf-prince stood and faced him still.

"Be gone from my sight, and try and not be overwhelmed yet again by youthful compassion and naivety when you are seeing to the other dwarves." And Thranduil once again, dismissed his son with a wave of his hand, which Bilbo noted, was still speckled with the black blood from his nose.

Legolas looked warily about the room, and when his eyes met Bilbo's, it looked as though he was trying to speak.  _But what? I can't understand you!_  The hobbit could not hide the despair now etched upon his features.

The elf-prince composed himself and bowed low to his father. "Ad-….. _my Lord_. I shall do you bidding to the best of my abilities." And with that, the elf-prince gracefully exited the surgical ward, taking with him every last shred of Bilbo's comfort and hope.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for readings. Reviews and feedback welcomed and appreciated!! 
> 
> I will be posting more chapters tomorrow evening


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